


striking me out

by QLaLa



Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Milkshakes, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-17
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-12-31 00:24:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12120546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QLaLa/pseuds/QLaLa
Summary: Cisco's pretty sure his dating life would be going a lot better if he didn't start all of his sentences with "My best friend, Barry..."





	striking me out

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the prompt, "I fell in love with my best friend."
> 
> Deepest thanks to my beta, Elizabeth, who puts up with a lot.
> 
> Title from the song "All the Pretty Girls" by fun., which definitely inspired this fic.

Dante may have had to get him drunk to agree to it, but Cisco still didn’t understand why all of his friends were _so surprised_ when he admitted he was going on a blind date that weekend.

“It’ll go great, I’m sure,” he said, ignoring Barry’s unnecessarily shell-shocked gaze. “I just need to remember not to talk about my job, or my hobbies, or what I’ve been doing with my life for the past three years.”

He pushed a curl behind his ear and frowned; even without a mirror, he could tell it was frizzing from the earlier rain. “Not to mention my hair chose today to do this," he said, then sighed. "At least I have a great personality."

“Cis,” Barry said, an unhappy, reprimanding expression on his face.

“Relax, Barry,” Cisco said. “It was a joke. I’m a catch.”

Barry looked at him, a trace of a frown still on his features. “You are,” he said, surprising Cisco. “You're…” Barry gestured at him with a vague, awkward hand flap.

Cisco raised an eyebrow, in part to hide the slight embarrassment he felt creeping up his neck. “I know,” he said.

Barry gave him one more sideways look before going back to the maps he was studying. Cisco watched him for a second longer, then pulled up his meta database to check that his algorithms were still running.

“You’re good-looking, I mean.” Barry said, a full minute later.

Cisco glanced up again, but Barry was studiously avoiding his gaze. He furrowed his brow, confused, and said, “Yeah. Right back at you, buddy.”

It could’ve been the light, but Barry’s cheeks looked slightly pink. “Okay,” Barry said, as if something were settled. “Good.”

 

* * *

 

The date started off well, at least. He’d agreed to meet Alexis at a buzzed-about new bar they’d both been wanting to try. She greeted him with a kiss on the cheek, he opened the door, and they both took one look at the crowd inside and balked. Still holding the door, he opened his mouth to suggest they try elsewhere, which was exactly when she turned back to him with a grimace. When he saw the matching reluctance on her face, Cisco laughed, and her expression relaxed into a smile.

“I know a great place for milkshakes,” Cisco offered.

“Please,” Alexis said, grimly, and they both laughed. Cisco offered her his arm, which she took with exaggerated gravitas, and he led her the two blocks over to his favorite diner. (And he didn’t use the word “favorite” lightly; he had a spreadsheet.)

The tinny speakers were playing a familiar song when they walked in, and Cisco took it as a good sign. In retrospect, that was probably his first mistake.  

Alexis glanced up at the speakers as they sat down (“low average wait time” was a category on the spreadsheet) and smiled again.

She smiled easily, and prettily. Her eyes were pale green and lovely, clear as sea glass, and Cisco found himself feeling hopeful about this. It lasted for a fraction of a second before he remembered he couldn’t tell her basically anything about his life, but he pushed that aside. He could enjoy the night, at least. Carpe diem, and all. He was the _king_ of carpe diem.

“I haven’t heard Lady Gaga in years,” Alexis said, picking up her menu. It was slightly tacky; the plastic cover stuck to the table a bit as she lifted it, but it popped off easily enough, and she browsed it gamely.

“Really?” Cisco said. “I love—” He caught himself, and broke off with a puzzled blink. _Barry_ loved Lady Gaga; Cisco didn’t have any feelings on her one way or the other. Although, he supposed, he was down to like anything that made his friends as happy as “Poker Face” still seemed to make Barry. So he smiled, and said again, more confidently this time, “I love Lady Gaga.”

Then, because it was a great story, he added, “My best friend woke up from a coma while this was playing. It’s kinda like, our song.” He paused. “Not officially or anything. I don’t know if he thinks that, but—”

Alexis looked startled. “Why was he in a coma?” she asked. She dropped her voice on the word _coma_ , glancing at the other diners, and Cisco felt his shoulders drop in relief. If he’d tripped her up with that, there was a good chance that she hadn’t even noticed the rambling that had followed.

He brushed off the question with an understanding wave of his hand. “He had an accident.”

“Oh,” Alexis said, with a sympathetic little twist to her mouth.

“No, no, he’s fine!” Cisco said, hurrying to correct her. “Better than ever!”

Her brows came together again, and Cisco internally slapped his forehead.

“Because we’re friends now,” he explained. “That was how we met. I was like, ‘Hey, you're awake!’ and he was like, ‘Who are you?’ and Lady Gaga was like, ‘P-P-P-Poker face.””

He had the distinct feeling that this conversation was getting away from him, and hurried to pick up his own menu.

When he glanced up, Alexis still looked doubtful, but not impolitely so. More like she doubted her understanding of the story than its validity. “So you didn't know him before,” she said, slowly.

“Right.”

“Why were you there when he came out of his coma?”

Cisco didn’t wince, but it was a near thing. “I'm a… doctor,” he said, haltingly. It was almost true; he’d gotten halfway through two doctorates before STAR Labs had poached him, and he was pretty sure that half of two doctorates should add up to one honorary one. If not, he could always ask Caitlin to borrow one of hers.

“Oh,” Alexis said again, but with more energy this time. “That must be interesting, making friends that way.”

“Interesting?” Cisco repeated. It came out a little high, and he cleared his throat. “No, it's, that's totally normal,” he said. “I'm friends with tons of my… patients.”

Alexis’s head tilted in confusion, and Cisco gave up. He was pretty sure he'd just set a world record for number of lies told on a first date.

“You know what?” he said, “I just remembered I'm supposed to be at the hospital right now, actually.” He jumped to his feet and added, nonsensically, “I have a patient. To medicine. This has been great!”

He pulled his wallet from his back pocket, started taking out a twenty, then remembered that they hadn’t even ordered yet. Alexis was staring up at him in surprise, and he winced.

“Sorry,” he said. “You should totally still get a milkshake. The s’mores one is the best. You have really pretty eyes!”

Then, abandoning the rest of his dignity, he fled. He was halfway home before he realized where he’d seen eyes like Alexis’s before.

 

* * *

 

Caitlin took one look at him the next morning, and the obvious “How was your date?” died on her lips. He took the tact where he could get it, knowing that as soon as Barry got in—

“Hey, man!” Barry said brightly, a half-second after a wave of loose papers announced his arrival. “I like the bun.” He blinked, like he wasn’t sure why he’d said it, then fixed Cisco with a crooked smile anyway.

Cisco had been too busy sulking to wash his hair his hair after the date, and had thrown it into a loose bun before leaving for STAR Labs this morning. He didn’t consider it his most fetching look, but there was no trace of irony in Barry’s _(pale green and lovely, clear as sea glass)_ eyes.

“Thanks,” Cisco said, a little flatly.

Barry caught his tone and winced. “Was the date that bad?” he asked.

“She was great,” Cisco said. He took a sip of his coffee and sighed, a little wistfully. In his peripherals, he thought he saw Barry blink hard, almost a flinch, and glanced over curiously. But there was no trace of the expression on Barry’s face, so Cisco chalked it up to his own exhaustion. “I put my foot in my mouth, that’s all.”

Barry quirked an eyebrow, and said, very seriously, “You’d think she’d be into that kind of flexibility.”

Cisco rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t keep himself from grinning.

Barry looked pleased at having landed the joke, and Cisco decided that maybe the date had been worth it after all.

 

* * *

 

When Caitlin offered to set him up on another blind date on Wednesday, he probably should’ve said no. He knew perfectly well he was only agreeing because he wanted to save face, and come back to B— to his _friends_ with proof that he could act like a normal human being on a date.

Despite his admittedly selfish intentions, though, the night ended up being one of the best Cisco had had in awhile. Jules was a friend of Caitlin’s from medical school, dark-haired and whip-smart, and Cisco skipped the pretense of the bar and brought her straight to milkshakes instead.

They fell in like old friends, talking and joking as easily as if they’d known each other for years. Cisco was genuinely enjoying himself, and it took him nearly an hour to realize that it was because neither of them had said two words about themselves the entire time.

He had just finished a heavily modified story about the last time he’d managed to get Barry drunk _(“He’s got a really high alcohol tolerance. Like, really high. It’s ridiculous.”)_ , and Jules was starting in on a lively story about _her_ best friend. Cisco was fairly certain he knew more about her than he did about Jules at this point, and she could probably say the same about him and Barry. The thought embarrassed him for reasons he couldn’t quite articulate; it somehow felt more revealing than if he _had_ spent the last hour talking about himself.

“So it’s like, three a.m. at this point, and Charlie decides she wants to go _dancing_.” Jules laughed and shook her head at the memory. She toyed with the straw of her second milkshake, which was empty but for an inch of whipped cream, and smiled a soft, private smile. “She’s a great dancer.”

It clicked, probably fifty-nine minutes later than it should’ve, and Cisco knew that smile wasn’t for him. He speared his straw through the cherry at the bottom of his glass, and offered it across the table to Jules anyway. It was dripping ice cream, but they’d already made a mess of the table, sticky glasses and empty, ketchup-y baskets of french fries everywhere, so neither of them was overly concerned.

Jules grinned, and Cisco already knew what was going to happen. It had been a cheesy move, but if this night had been going anywhere romantic, Jules would’ve leaned across the table and pulled the cherry off the straw with her lips. Instead, she took the straw from his fingers, tipped her head back, and dropped the cherry into her mouth. She returned him the straw with a smile that was friendly and nothing else.

Cisco really did like her, but even he could admit they weren’t doing themselves any favors by calling this a date. So he took the straw back, steepled his fingers in his best Hannibal Lecter impersonation, and said, “And how long have you been in love with her?”

Jules spluttered and blushed, but she was fighting a smile when she said, “Shut up.” When Cisco raised an eyebrow, her blush deepened, and she glanced away.

Cisco waved to the waitress for another round of milkshakes.

By the time they split the check, they’d used their last clean napkin to draw up a six-point plan for Jules to tell Charlie how she felt. Jules tucked it carefully in her wallet as they stood to leave, and gave Cisco a rather tearful hug when they parted ways outside the diner.

“Hey,” he said. When Jules looked back at him, eyes questioning, he smiled. “You’d better at least _consider_ me for best man at this wedding.”

Jules laughed. Her smile was radiant, full of hope, and it reminded him sharply, painfully of Barry. He almost opened his mouth to say so, but for the first time all night, managed to catch himself before he did.

 

* * *

If Jules had been one step forward, Ian was three steps back. Not that it was Ian’s fault, of course; he was gorgeous, tall and pink-lipped, and came with a too-candid (but undeniably positive) recommendation from Hartley. Later, Cisco would give him credit for lasting as long as he did before he snapped.

Ian had just mentioned his internship at Palmer Tech, and Cisco said, with a laugh, “Oh, man. That reminds me of this thing my best friend said last—”

“Barry.”

Cisco blinked, surprised by the interruption. “What?” he asked.

Ian’s expression was annoyed, but there was an oddly defeated look in his eyes. “You’ve told me his name like ten times,” he said.

“Exaggerate much?” Cisco said, but his laugh sounded nervous even to his own ears. “We only got here twenty minutes ago.”

“It’s actually been twelve times,” Ian said. “I rounded down to be polite.”

 

* * *

 

The next weekend was Marcus, who had a spray of freckles across his cheekbones and twin dimples when he smiled. He was quiet, and nodded politely through all of Cisco’s stories. When he kissed Cisco goodnight, Cisco tried not to think about how he’d instinctively tilted his head up before realizing Marcus was only his height.

The problem was, Cisco had never been good at not thinking.  

 

* * *

 

“And then my best friend, Barry, said—”

 

* * *

 

There were no doors to slam in the Cortex, so Cisco made do with dropping his bag onto the ground with as much force as he could manage. It barely made a thump anyway, and he glared at it. Because this night couldn't get any—

“Cisco?”

—worse.

Cisco groaned aloud, and dropped into his desk chair. Barry poked his head out from the next room, and Cisco glared at him. Barry had no business being that tall, or having so many freckles, or looking at him with eyes that green.

Cisco wanted to hit him. In the mouth. With his mouth.

“I thought you had a date,” Barry said, somehow oblivious to the annoyance that Cisco was working _very_ hard at radiating in his direction.

“I did.” he said.

Barry tried to glance surreptitiously at the clock, but Cisco saw him do it. Of course he had; he'd known Barry was going to look at the clock as soon as he said it. And that was the _entire_ problem. He knew Barry better than anyone else on this planet, so why was he dragging himself out to bar after bar to meet other people instead? Introductions, some small talk _(“oh, you have a cat?_ ), maybe a brief, awkward kiss, neither of them sure what the other liked. Then the next night Barry would be flopping down on his couch, in the spot that Cisco called “Barry’s side” even when he wasn’t there, and logging into Cisco’s Netflix account to queue up a movie before Cisco even had to ask.

Barry was still looking at him, and Cisco nudged the toe of one sneaker against the ground to spin his chair away from that searching gaze.

“It’s not even that I’m wasting my time,” Cisco said to the wall. “I’m wasting _their_ time. Even if I liked someone enough to tell them I was Vibe, there’s still all these other secrets I’m not allowed to tell.” He wanted to wheel around to look at Barry, and resisted. “I mean, my best friend’s the Flash. That’s like, the second coolest part of my life, and I can’t even share it with people.’

There was a moment's pause, then Barry asked, “The second coolest?”

Cisco snorted, not unkindly. “You run really fast. I can open portals between parallel universes.”

Barry’s soft laugh made Cisco’s breath catch. Without looking, he could see the exact shape of Barry’s lips, the dimple in his cheek, the happy crinkle of his eyes.

“So what brought all this on?” Barry asked, after a brief, companionable silence.

Cisco made a vague noise, and looked down at his laces. “Nothing. Just did something stupid, I guess.”

Cisco didn’t notice Barry moving across the room until his hand landed on the back of the chair.

“Put-your-foot-in-your-mouth stupid, or built-the-cold-gun stupid?”

Cisco sighed. “Definitely the second one.”

Barry tried to spin the chair around to face him, but Cisco planted his sneaker stubbornly against the floor.

“Cisco…” Barry said, wheedling.

“I fell in love with my best friend.”

The silence that followed his words was complete. Neither of them so much as breathed for about three seconds, then Barry gave a strangled-sounding laugh.

At that, Cisco _did_ wheel to face him. However he’d expected Barry to react, it hadn’t been like that, and he tried to shoot him an offended glare.

But Barry had already taken two steps away, and was staring unseeing at the bank of monitors across the room. He breathed that strange laugh again, ran his hand through his hair, and turned back to face Cisco with an odd, neutral expression. “You should tell her,” he said.

Cisco blinked.

“I mean,” Barry said, oblivious to Cisco’s confusion. He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I don’t know how she’ll take it, but you’ve been friends for years. She’s not gonna—”

“Dude,” Cisco said.  

“—stop talking to you or anything. Even if she doesn’t feel—”

“Barry.”

“—the same, you should definitely just—”

“ _Barr_.”

Barry finally stopped, and licked his lips nervously before looking over at him.

“I’m not talking about Caitlin,” Cisco said.

Barry’s gaze darted away, then helplessly back. He wasn’t running away, which Cisco considered a good sign. But he also wasn’t coming across the room and kissing him senseless, which was probably less of a good sign.

At the end of the day, though, Cisco was a scientist, and scientists didn’t deal in “probably”s. So he lifted an eyebrow, summoned all the courage he could muster, and asked, “Did you want me to be?”

Barry didn’t answer at first. He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it about as wild as the look in his eyes, and stared at Cisco like he wasn’t sure that he wasn’t another of his speed force ghosts. After what was perhaps the longest pause of Cisco’s entire life, he said, “No.”

“Good,” Cisco said, with finality he didn’t feel. “Alright. So, stop acting weird, cause you’re kinda making me regret this.”

Barry closed the distance between them in a frankly unnecessary blitz of speed and lightning. He stopped an inch from the chair, close enough that Cisco could smell the ozone on his skin, and hesitated there. “Just to be clear, you...”

“Oh, my god,” Cisco said. “I really do have to do all the work around here.” He grabbed Barry’s sleeve, and used it to haul himself to his feet. “Yes, alright? I love you, even though you have been _totally_ striking me out. Actually, if you want to say ‘sorry for making you go on all those blind dates, Cisco,’ I wouldn’t mind hearing it. I spent _a lot_ of money on milkshakes this month.”

Barry grinned. “Milkshakes?” he repeated.

“Shut up,” Cisco said.

Barry grinned, and slid a warm hand over Cisco’s waist. “I love you, too.”

Cisco couldn’t help the quick, disbelieving glance he shot Barry, even as hope bloomed wild and fierce in his chest. Barry only met his gaze with the same warm, affectionate smile he’d been giving him for—god, Cisco really was an idiot—years.

With the hand still on Barry’s sleeve, Cisco pulled him a stubborn inch closer. “Just for future reference,” he said, “the right time to say that was like, two minutes ago.”

Barry laughed, and Cisco was so relieved to hear the sound that he didn’t even complain when he had to push up on his toes to finally kiss him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comment notifications make my day, so please, don't be shy!


End file.
